


Statements Begin

by ellewidogast (ptgreat)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 06:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20577752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptgreat/pseuds/ellewidogast
Summary: A collection of TMA ficlets that I've written for prompts I've gotten on tumblr.





	1. Jon/Martin - Go the F*** to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: How about jonmartin with Jon on bedrest (mandated by Martin lol) (as angsty or fluffy as you want haha)

“Statement of Jonathan Sims, regarding my captivity and possible poisoning–”

“Jon! What are you doing out of bed? Is that a tape recorder?”

Jon hunched further over his desk, clutching the fleece blanket around his shoulders like a gothic moorland heroine. Martin huffed the rest of the way into the room, steaming mug of tea in one hand and cold medicine in the other. Jon eyed him and his offerings suspiciously.

“Wait. Did you say poisoning?”

Jon glowered. Martin sighed.

“It was an accident! I’ve already apologized for giving you the night-time medicine. This time it _is_ non-drowsy!”

Jon continued to glare but, knowing Martin would hold the tea hostage until he cooperated, he accepted the blue gel capsules and quickly swallowed them.

“Thank you,” Martin said, relinquishing the hot mug into Jon cold fingers. “Now please get back in bed before you pass out on your desk again.”

“I’m not going to pass out again.”

“Yes you are.”

“I’m not–” Jon narrowed his eyes, “unless that wasn’t non-drowsy.”

“Your tea is getting cold, Jon.”

“That’s not an answer, Martin.”

Martin fussed with a pile of statements, scooping them up in his arms in an untidy stack and heading out.

“Martin!”


	2. Jon/Gerry - Archivist Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jongerry tattoos?

Jon gnawed on his bottom lip, trying very hard not to wrinkle his carefully put together resume, as he stared at the double doors to the Magnus Institute. He itched for a cigarette, but he was trying to quit and stinking like smoke would be a very poor first impression.

“Right,” he muttered to himself. “It’s just an interview, Jon. Not the end of the world.”

“You’d be surprised what could be the end of the world.”

Jon jerked around, crushing his resume. There was a man just a few steps behind him, decked out in all black, old leather jacket, combat boots, and his long black hair looking like it had been dyed in a sink. An unlit cigarette was squeezed between two fingers, even his nails were painted black.

“P-pardon?”

The man shrugged and put the cigarette in his mouth, but didn’t light it. A bold black eye inked on his middle finger stared at him and Jon stared right back.

“I’m trying to quit,” the man said as if that explained something.

“What? Oh.” 

Jon realized he’d misinterpreted his staring. He didn’t bother correcting him. It was less embarrassing to let him think he was thrown off by the unlit cigarette instead of waiting for his tattoo to blink. Which. Was stupid. Very, very stupid.

“Uh. Me too.”

“You going in to make a statement?”

“N-no. I have an interview.”

Jon dropped his gaze to his ruined resume. Mr. Bouchard had a copy of it already of course but this felt like a bad sign. The man studied him. A little shiver worked its way up Jon’s spine.

“You should skip it,” the man held out a surprisingly well-printed but somewhat tattered business card.

Jon took it, brows furrowed. Pinhole Books. <strike>Mary</strike> Keay. Another name was scrawled just above the the crossed out Mary.

“Gerard?”

“That’s me.”

“You own a bookstore?”

“…more like an eclectic collection of antique books.”

Jon felt a chill sweep over him, more severe than Gerard’s scrutiny had.

“Like Leitners?”

Gerard’s gaze focused on him intensely.

“Used to,” he said carefully. “I prefer destroying them now.”

Jon crumpled his resume into a ball.

“How does one go about doing that?”


	3. Elias/Peter - A Little Hawaii in Your Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Can I ask for Lonely Eyes first wedding, please?

Elias shifted onto his side, sheet slipping off his hips, as Peter returned to their bedroom, and narrowed his eyes.

“What is that?”

Peter grinned and did a little turn, showing off his eye-searing monstrosity masquerading as a shirt.

“That is not an answer, Peter.”

“Just bringing a little bit of Hawaii to our honeymoon.”

Elias glowered, “We eloped to Denmark. That has nothing to do with Hawaii.”

“Exactly. And look I got you one too!”

Peter dropped it onto the bed and Elias stared at it. Had the Spiral taken up fashion design? He looked back up at Peter.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, Elias–”

“Dispose of both items,” he twisted the sheet around his ankle and dragged it further down, “Then I will ‘come on,’ Peter.”

“Oh. Well. When you put it that way.”


	4. Jon & Martin - Brown Paper Package Tied Up with String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: ok but what if mr spider DID come back for jon (and also martin is there and realizes why jon hates spiders so much)

Jon frowned at the package in his hands. It had been waiting for him just outside his door when he had gone outside for a quick morning smoke. It was thin and flexible, wrapped in plain brown paper and twine. Martin leaned over his shoulder with two mugs of tea.

“What’s that?”

Jon shook his head and took one of the mugs.

“I don’t know.”

He tugged at the twine, a strange, familiar feeling in his stomach. Something fluttered to the floor. An equally plain envelope. Martin bent and picked it up.

“It has a note.”

“Hm.”

Jon slipped the twine the rest of the way off and slipped a finger under the seam of the wrapping, while Martin opened the envelope, pulling out a single sheet of folded stationary. Martin cocked his head, a little furrow in his brow.

“It doesn’t really explain anything.”

Jon turned the package over, unwrapping. Martin smoothed the folds in the letter a little as he read it aloud.

“Jon. I think you lost this.”

What did that mean—Jon froze as he revealed the corner of a monochrome cover.

“See you soon. Or maybe I won’t. Annabelle.”

The book slipped from his fingers and landed with a soft thwack onto the floor. Martin moved around him to pick it up. Jon grabbed his arm, fingers digging in.

“Don’t—don’t.”

Martin looked at him, a concerned frown on his face.

“Are you alright—”

KNOCK KNOCK.


	5. Jon/Michael - Tangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: jondistortion + "bad hair day"

A door where there was not a door slammed followed immediately by an infuriated snarl. Jon jumped, pen scratching across his notes. His office suddenly seemed much smaller. Michael loomed and filled the room with his roiling presence. The effect lost a little impact as he jerked back slightly, impossibly long hair snagged on…Jon wasn’t quite sure.

“M-Michael.”

“Archivist,” the Distortion said in a drawn-out growl, glowering over his own shoulder.

He tugged and hissed.

“Do…do you ah want help?”

Michael turned his gaze on him, silent and disorienting.

“_Can_ you help, Archivist?”

It sounded more like an accusation than a request, but Jon stood slowly.

“I can try.”

He eased his way around him. The yellow door was ajar, Michael’s hair leading into the labyrinthine hallways, caught on….something. Jon took a breath and reached his hand inside, taking a handful of hair that surprisingly felt like hair although the way the curls wrapped around his wrist and fingers was disconcerting. Slowly, carefully, he felt for the catches, leaning against the door frame and never letting more than his arm cross the threshold. Michael stood just behind him, breath occasionally moving Jon’s hair. Jon tried to take a step back when the last bit was finally unhooked, but Michael didn’t move and he bumped into him.

“It-it’s free now.”

Curls still spiraled around his hand and up part of his arm. Michael made a thoughtful noise.

“Wouldn’t you like to step inside, Archivist? Aren’t you curious?”

Jon shivered.

“M-maybe. But I think that would end very badly for me.”

Michael laughed. And laughed.

“Oh, Archivist. It’s already going to end badly for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Want to prompt me? Just send me an ask on tumblr (raspberrysundae). I'm also accepting prompts for Critical Role - Campaign 2.


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